


a show of trust

by Spikedluv



Category: Blood Ties (TV)
Genre: Community: trope_bingo, Gen, Involuntarily drugged, Kid!fic kinda sorta, M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-02
Updated: 2018-02-02
Packaged: 2019-03-12 16:35:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13551303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spikedluv/pseuds/Spikedluv
Summary: When Henry watches over Mike after he’s been injected with something that makes his mind revert to that of a 4-year old he sees a totally different side of the other man.





	a show of trust

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Round 10 of [Trope Bingo on DW](http://trope_bingo.dreamwidth.org) to fill the _Altered States (of the Mind)_ square.
> 
> Warning: Mike is attacked and injected with an unknown drug.
> 
> Written: February 2, 2018

“I need you to watch Mike,” Vicki said as soon as Henry answered the door.

“Hello to you, too, Vicki.” Henry glanced at Mike who was looking around the hallway as if he’d never been to Henry’s apartment before.

Vicki heaved a sigh. “Hello, Henry. I need you to watch Mike for me.”

Henry raised an eyebrow. “Why?”

“Mike, please cover your ears.”

Mike rolled his eyes, but did as Vicki asked. Still, Vicki leaned closer to Henry and spoke in a low voice.

“Because he was attacked by someone who injected him with something. I need to find whoever did it and get the antidote without worrying that this person might go after him again. That’s why.”

Henry glanced at Mike. He didn’t look like he’d been attacked, but there was something off about his behavior.

Vicki reached out and touched Mike’s wrist and he lowered his hands. “You said we were going to get pizza.”

“We are,” Vicki said gently. “Henry’s going to order it for you. Mike, this is my friend Henry. He’s going to watch you while I’m working.”

“Okay,” Mike said. “Hi.”

“Hello, Michael,” Henry said.

“You’ve got long hair.”

“Yes.”

“I know how to make a braid.”

“Do you?”

“Wow, look at the size of that TV!” Mike pushed past Henry and stared at the television hanging on the wall. “Where’d you get a flat one like that? Can we watch cartoons?”

“Vicki,” Henry said, the ‘explain now’ going unsaid.

“Whatever they injected him with made his mind revert to that of a four-year old, as far as Rajani can tell,” Vicki said. “I don’t know if it’ll wear off or not, and I can’t take the chance so I need to find this guy and see if there’s an antidote.”

“Call me when you know anything,” Henry said.

“I will.”

“Vicki.” Henry caught her before she turned away. “You know he can’t be here alone when the sun rises.”

“I’ll be back before then,” Vicki said with a determined squaring of her jaw.

Henry nodded. He closed the door and waited until he heard Vicki get on the elevator before turning back to his apartment. Mike had found the remote and turned on the television. He was staring in wonder as he scrolled through the channels.

“How’d you get so many channels?”

“I had to buy a special box,” Henry said. “May I?” He held out his hand for the remote and Mike dropped it into his palm. Henry found the children’s programing and handed the remote back to Mike. “Start there.”

Mike let out a breath at the channel number, but dutifully pressed the buttons. “I don’t know any of these,” he said plaintively as he scrolled through the Disney, Nickelodeon and other kid’s channels.

“Why don’t we try that one?” Henry said when he recognized the yellow sponge-shaped character. Henry sat on the couch with Mike and watched him perch on the edge of his seat as he watched the screen.

“Are you going to order pizza?” Mike said without looking away from the television.

“Oh, yes,” Henry said. He withdrew his phone from the front pocket of his slacks.

“What’s that?” Mike said.

“Uh,” Henry said. “It’s a portable phone. A prototype.”

“What’s a prototype?” Mike said, carefully sounding out the word.

“Experimental,” Henry said. “One day these phones will be all over the place.”

“No way!”

“Yes way.” Henry smiled as he looked up the number for the closest pizza place that delivered. “What do you want on your pizza?”

Mike shrugged.

“Pepperoni? Sausage? Vegetables?”

The first two earned Henry more shrugs, but the last got him a grimace.

“Anchovies?”

Mike looked at Henry, his face screwed up in disgust. “Gross.”

Henry laughed. “Plain cheese, then?”

“Pepperoni, please,” Mike said in a soft voice.

Henry ordered the pizza and, belatedly, something for Mike to drink.

“I’m not supposed to have a lot of sugar,” Mike said.

“Then you’ll have just one glass.”

Mike seemed okay with that. He turned back to the television and started at the screen for a few moments before asking, “How long ‘til the pizza gets here?”

“Half an hour,” Henry said. “Why don’t you take off your coat and get more comfortable.”

Mike moved the remote from one hand to the other as he shrugged out of each arm of the coat in turn. Henry helped him pull the coat off and plucked at the suit jacket. Mike set the remote down this time. When he had the jacket off he tugged at the tie.

“Let me help,” Henry said.

Mike didn’t argue, just shifted so Henry could reach the knot, his head still turned so he could watch the television. Henry bit back a smile at Mike’s absorption in the cartoon. Henry slid the tie from around Mike’s neck. He reached for Mike’s hand and rolled up the cuff of his dress shirt. Mike didn’t argue or squirm and he held out his other hand when Henry finished with the first. Something in Henry’s stomach flipped at how trusting of Henry Mike was acting.

Henry folded the tie and stuffed it into a pocket of the suit jacket. He used the excuse of hanging it up to get away from Mike. When he turned around Mike was right there, holding the coat out to Henry.

“Thank you,” Henry said, carefully taking the coat from Mike’s hand.

“You’re welcome,” Mike said. “How do you know Vicki?”

“I met her when she was working on a case,” Henry said.

“Me, too.” Mike looked sad for a moment. “She’s going to find my parents for me,” he said before returning to the couch and his cartoon.

Henry caught himself staring and forced himself to turn away. He hung the coat with more care than was necessary, and when he turned back Mike had kicked off his shoes and tucked himself into a corner of the couch. Henry went to the kitchen and got down a plate and a glass. He put some ice in the glass and tore off a sheet of paper towel for Mike to use as a napkin.

Mike watched Henry set the items on the coffee table. “How much longer now?”

Henry checked his watch. “Fifteen minutes.”

“I need to wash my hands,” Mike said.

“Down the hall,” Henry said, then led the way so he could show Mike where the light was.

Henry returned to the living room and sat in a chair rather than the couch so he had some space from Mike. Mike returned to his seat on the couch as if nothing was wrong. For him, perhaps nothing was.

The pizza finally came, but Henry’s relief was short-lived as he had to watch Mike eat the slices and lick grease off his fingers. Henry went to his office and got his drawing pad and several pencils so he could work while Mike ate and watched the cartoon.

Henry raised his eyes from the drawing he was working on when Mike got up to go to the bathroom and wash his hands again. Mike had eaten half of the large pie – he might currently have the mind of a four-year old boy, but he still had the body of a thirty-seven-year old man.

Henry set the dishes in the sink and put the leftover pizza and soda in the fridge in case Mike wanted more later. Mike was standing beside Henry’s chair when Henry returned to the living room. He might’ve dried his hands partly on the towel, but he was finishing the job on his slacks.

“What are you drawing?” Mike said, indicating the pad.

“I’m drawing a panel for my graphic novel.”

Mike frowned. “What’s a graphic novel?”

Henry opened his mouth to explain, and closed it. He shut his eyes and swore silently before opening them and looking directly at Mike. “They’re kind of like comic books. But for adults,” he added before Mike could ask to see one.

Mike stared longingly at the pad.

“Would you like to draw?” Henry said.

Mike shook his head. “I can’t draw, but I like to color.” There was a hopeful look on Mike’s face that made Henry’s breath catch. “Do you have crayons?”

“No,” Henry said. He held up a finger and went into his office. He dug out an unopened package of colored pencils. “But I have these.”

Mike grinned. “Can I color one of your pictures?”

“Why don’t I draw a picture just for you?” Henry said. He picked up the pad so he didn’t have to look at the way Mike’s eyes had gone wide and bright. He flipped to a clean page. “What would you like me to draw?”

Mike was speechless, which was a new look on him. Henry waited patiently and finally Mike said, “A knight fighting a dragon.”

Henry settled into the chair with his pad and pencils. Mike knelt beside the chair and leaned in so he could watch every stroke of Henry’s pencil. The heat from Mike’s body was distracting.

Henry drew the knight, fully armored with the faceplate of his helmet raised, sitting on a log in a clearing. A dragon lounged in the tall grass. Between them was a flat rock holding a chessboard. Mike huffed a laugh when he realized the ‘battle’ was a game of chess, and he made an excited sound when Henry gave the knight Mike’s features.

When the drawing was finished, Henry tore the page out of the pad and handed it to Mike. Mike handled the drawing so very carefully. He knelt in front of the coffee table and concentrated so hard on which color to use and staying in the lines that it screwed up his face. He looked adorable.

Henry turned back to the panel he’d been working on, but found his attention drifting to Mike more than once.

~*~

Vicki’s eyes went wide when Henry opened the door and whatever words she’d been about to say died on her lips.

“Not a word,” Henry said.

The corners of Vicki’s lips twitched. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

“Vicki!” Mike said from the couch. “I showed Henry how good I can braid!”

“I see that.” Vicki stepped past Henry into the apartment. “You did a great job.”

“I know,” Mike said, preening under Vicki’s praise.

Henry closed the door. “Did you find it?” he said softly.

“Supposedly it will wear off,” Vicki replied just as quietly. “Rajani and Coreen are working with a sample of the . . . drug, or whatever it is, in case we need to create an antidote.”

They both watched Mike for a few moments.

“I’ll take him home, get him out of your hair,” Vicki said.

Henry glared at her to cover for the sense of loss.

“Thank you for looking out for him.”

“Any time,” Henry said with enough feeling to cause Vicki to look at him strangely. “Let me get Mike’s coat.”

~*~

There were three voice mails on Henry’s phone when he rose that evening – in addition to his agent, which Henry skipped, one was Vicki letting him know that Mike was back to himself, and the other was from Mike himself.

_Vicki tells me that you watched me last night when I was incapacitated . . . thank you._

Henry found Mike’s contact and pressed ‘send’. Mike picked up after the third ring with a gruff, “Celluci.”

“Good evening, Detective,” Henry said.

“Henry,” Mike said warily, though he’d know it was Henry before he picked up.

“Michael,” Henry said. “I’m glad you’re back to yourself.”

There was a pause, as if Mike expected Henry to make a joke at his expense. “Thank you,” Mike said. “Did I do anything embarrassing last night?”

“Not at all. You watched cartoons, there was a _SpongeBob_ marathon, and ate pizza.”

“Is that all?”

Henry thought of the braids, but figured Vicki wouldn’t embarrass Mike by bringing it up. “Yes.”

“Well, good,” Mike said. “I should get back to work.”

“Of course,” Henry said. “I’ll see you later, Michael.”

Henry disconnected the call before Mike could say anything to that comment. He tucked the phone into the pocket of his silk robe and picked up the drawing Mike had colored the night before. Mike had written in uneven block letters at the top _TO HENRY_ and FROMMIKE at the bottom. Henry felt a pinch of wistfulness at the memory of Mike presenting the picture to Henry with a proud grin that was diluted by a hint of fear that Henry might not like it.

Henry set the picture down where he’d remember to get a frame for it and went to take a shower. He had some thinking to do. Mike had been the one drugged last night, but Henry was the one seeing things differently this evening.

The End


End file.
